


A Collection

by gammaray



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: All Bad Ends, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Bad Ending, Blood, Body Horror, Decapitation, Gore, Graphic Description, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:44:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gammaray/pseuds/gammaray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're all precious to him. Every single Aoba has their own special feature. In a realm where they're all happy. In a realm where they're all together. Breathing or not, they're all precious to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Collection

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://aobasaragaki.tumblr.com/post/71175088373) picture [john](http://aobasaragaki.tumblr.com) showed me

Snow-white fingers gently comb their way through knotted hair, patiently picking out flecks of blood. A soft voice hums an absent tune, an occasional giggle lacing through it. The voice murmurs praises as it goes, a bittersweet 'tsk' escaping their lips whenever their fingers get caught on a particularly troublesome knot of hair. 

"Ah, Noiaoba, you should really be careful." 

Instead of a verbal response, he receives a shaky sigh and a careful shift, wincing at the stimulation to open wounds. Shiroba dips down to press a gentle kiss to their forehead, lips skimming over a cut above their eyebrow. He continues untangling Noiaoba's hair, soothing him with gentle kisses along his face. Over the time they've been in this void, Shiroba has confirmed that everyone in the void with him has lost the feeling in their hair. Even Minaoba, who's lost everything _but_ his head. 

Then again, one can't do much when they're decapitated. 

Once Noiaoba's hair is combed through and clean, Shiroba lays his head down in Cleaoba's lap. Their fingers automatically lace together with a bit of Noiaoba's guidance, keeping the two close. Noiaoba lays on his side with his back to Shiroba, murmuring to Cleaoba to assure him that he's there. The latter lacks both his sight and his voice, something the rest of the crew solemnly discussed often when he was asleep. He could still hear, so the conversation wasn't often. 

Shiroba ignores the blood staining his robes, approaching where Renaoba sits with Minaoba held in his unwounded arm. The former's mouth has been producing more foam than usual, a sign that his amputated arm has gotten infected. If they were in the real world, he would've died from the infection, but this realm means you live forever. There's no aging. Your body pre-realm is what you come into this void as and your condition can worsen but you can't develop anything else. It'll only get bad. You'll live on the brink of death forever. 

"Mm, Renaoba, you're dirtying his hair." The white-haired male gently extracts Minaoba from the other's arm, gently wiping the foam from his hair. He smiles gently at the other's peaceful face, thumb tracing over the bone protruding from where he had been decapitated. He slowly slides his thumb into his torn esophagus, grinning. Noiaoba had cuts he could wiggle his fingertip inside, but Miaoba had open holes to mess with. He was dead, so he couldn't feel anything. It was both a blessing and a curse. 

Not once had Shiroba removed Cleaoba's limb covers on his amputated legs for anything but weakly cleaning. They were stitched wounds, and stitched wounds were not to be messed with. He enjoyed running the pad of his finger around the inside of Cleaoba's eye socket anyway. 

Noiaoba shakily reaches up to rest his hand right above Renaoba's amputation, sliding his thumb along the bite wounds littering his skin. He buries his face into Cleaoba's thigh, trying to feel something other than blood and bites. Smiling, Shiroba watches them from where he sits between them, caressing the head in his arms. 

They were a family. 

Noiaoba starts to cry when he makes contact with the open wound of the end of Renaoba's upper arm, fingers trembling at the touch of jagged bone. Cleaoba silently pets his hair, a tear slipping past the blindfold. Renaoba remains silent, a soft growl escaping his lips the only response he gives. His frame shakes and Shiroba knows he's upset. The right side of his face droops from the nerve trauma, but the left side shows the distress in his glazed-over eye. 

A big, happy family.


End file.
